(1937-12-03) A Gift, A Girl, and A Gorgon
Details for A Gift, A Girl, and A Gorgon
Summary: Dalaigh visits Nadya in Hogsmeade to give her an early birthday present, and the siblings catch up a bit.
Date: December 3, 1937
Location: Gypsy Caravan

Nadya lounges on the steps of her caravan, smoking her long-stemmed pipe. With the relatively warm day, she has shed her heavy coat, revealing a loose, colourful blouse that presently threatens to slip right off of one shoulder. She has her usual table of trinkets, bits and bobs set up, ready to snare the loose coins of the students going to and from Hogsmeade.

And here comes one of those students now! Although, even before he's in sight, the whistle in the wind will let Nadya know that she won't be making any money off this little fish. Dalaigh comes around a corner in the path, the whistle cutting off as a broad smile curves his lips at the familiar site of a piece of home, so far from home. His pace is a little quicker now, and he calls out when he's nearer, "Oi, gra a mo gris." He slips easily into Shelta and just as easily back out again, "Makin' any money yet?" Dale's steps take him unveeringly to Nadya for a hug, and he kisses her cheek.

Nadya sits up the moment she hears the whistle, and her typically catlike smile brightens to genuine warms when her little brother comes into view. She returns the embrace, and the kiss to his cheek. "I am, Dalaigh-boy. Plenty lookin' for Christmas gifts, and I've just the sort o' stock for that." She scoots over, patting the step beside her. "Sit with me."

Dalaigh easily flops down next to Nadya, bumping against her with the good natured way of any little brother. He glances to the table, nodding, "Aye, that ye do." Lanky legs stretch out, the boy still getting used to what to do with them after the last growth spurt, and he turns his head to regard his sister, one eye squinted nearly shut. "Did ye do somethin' new wi' yer hair?"

Nadya chuckles quietly, "I didn't, exactly. At Hallows' Eve I had it transfigured into snakes for a Gorgon costume. It's had a mind of its own ever since." She takes a puff of her pipe, then offers it to him. "I never heard how your Hallowe'en went. Did you go to that dance? Get yourself a date?"

Leaning back, Dale dips a hand into the pocket of his jacket. It's actually a hand-me-down from one of the uncles, or cousins, a somewhat tattered suit coat that's seen better days. But it suits his purposes when they're allowed out of uniform just fine. "Nah, din't go. Caught some out snoggin' in the gardens though," he says brightly. His hand comes out palm down with something held hidden by his thumb. "I think ye need this, my snaky darlin'." He turns his hand over, revealing a comb held out to her. It's not an expensive piece, but it's been embellished with colorful ribbons braided around it's base, and they dangle long so they'll mix into her strands of hair. "Happy birthday," he lilts in Shelta.

Nadya's mouth forms a smiling "O" at the presentation of the gift. She cradles it in her hand as if it were precious glass, and could break under the weight of a break. "Nais tuke," she breathes her thanks in the Romany tongue. "Thank you, Dalaigh. It's jus' lovely." She scoots closer and curls an arm to pull him into a hug, planting a big, affectionate smooch on his forehead. "This should tame those serpents, aye?" She reaches up to pull part of her hair back, and pins it in place with the comb. It's a rough do, but it suits her unkempt style.

Dale leans into the circle of Nadya's arm, looking pleased to have made his big sister happy. As she puts the comb into place he reaches up, untangling the ribbon and straightening it against her hair. Then he leans back to assess her. "A prettier lass I've never laid eyes on. No wonder none have stolen my heart from my Nadya." There's a tease in his voice, and a gleam of merriment in his eyes. He's not the 'romancer' Colton fancies himself to be.

Nadya giggles lightly, a sound rarely heard by any but him. "Dalaigh-boy, you're the sweetest thing. Surely some pretty thing has caught your eye. Hopefully some sweet Irish lass?" She gives him a teasing smirk.

The boy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his clasped hands hang between them as he shrugs his shoulders lightly, looking toward the forest. "There's a sweet Irish lass in my house, but I get the feelin' someone's beaten me out." His head turns, regarding Nadya with a crooked smile, "But why tie myself down in my prime?"

Nadya crosses her arms, resting them on her knees. "You never know where love will find you. Look at Ma and Da. All it took was one dance, and love bloomed like magic. If you like the girl, go after her. If she's your destiny, it will work out in the end."

"Aye, but it's not my worry now. Not with O.W.L.s this year." At least Dalaigh has his head in the game. Mostly. "There's a pretty little Welsh Gryffindor, as well. An' a stunning blond Slytherin. They're all clamorin' after me." Line forms to the left, ladies!

Nadya grins at him, and reaches over to ruffle his hair. "Alright. If it's your studies keepin' y' distracted from the ladies, I'll accept that. But if y' do start playin' Romeo, I want names." There is a brief moment when her gaze turns deadly serious.

"Aye, mum," Dale says, considerably less seriously. Then he glances over to her and sobers, "Aye, ye ken I will. Name, birthplace, a lock of hair." Sobers mostly. His arm swings up and around her to give a squeeze about her shoulders.

Nadya nods, satisfied when he remembers the lock of hair. "Good. Start now. Who are these three girls?" She leans in, eyeing him closely. She's serious, but her catlike smile has returned to tease him.

One hand comes up to wave dismissively, "There's none. I'm busy, remember?" Dalaigh chuckles lightly, "An' what of ye, my lovely lass? No one yet stolen yer heart?" Despite the fact that they correspond regularly, he still asks in case she's holding anything out on him.

"Oh no," Nadya shakes her head. "No gettin' out o' this. There's an Irish lass in your house, a Welsh Gryffindor, and a blonde Slytherin." She took her mental notes. "Let's hear about them. I know teenaged boys. You say you're studyin' now. But the moment one o' them walks by, you'll be mumblin' nonsense. So, spill it, boyo."

A stronger laugh comes this time, and Dale concedes, "There's only the lass in my house. An' I already told ye, someone's beat me out. So no need t' go botherin' about it. But if that changes, I'll be right t' ye with a lock of her lovely red hair."

Nadya doesn't back off one inch. "A name. Only then will I tell y' about my heart."

Dalaigh sighs. He knows that tone of voice. His voice lowers until it's nearly inaudible, eyes looking down at the wooden step below where they sit. "Eibhlin Shine." The boy hastens to add, yet again, "But she doesn't fancy me. It's not anything."

Nadya's smile curls up just slightly. 'Eibhlin, that is is a good Irish name. So who does she fancy, if not my sweet brother?" She gives him a playful poke in the ribs.

One finger comes up, and Dalaigh shakes his head. "Now that, my darlin', is not part of the deal. Doesn't matter." His hands clasp again, head ducking to look at them. "Her eyes are more blue than the sky." Turning his head to look at Nadya, that squint of one eye is back. "Now, we talk of yer heart."

Nadya shrugs, leaning back, but getting a broad grin when he starts waxing poetic about Eibhlin. "Fine. I'll find out on my own. You're not my only informant in the school, you know. Oh, and no, no man has stolen my heart. Come now, boyo. I've no time for love when I got you wee ones to look after." She winks.

"Ye'll do naught of the sort," Dale returns, trying his best to sound stern and manly. "An' ye'll not tell anyone." That one… is more a question. "I'll not be puttin' my matters out there." Especially when he's not acted on them to the girl herself. "I din't think so, but a brother has t' look out fer his sister, n'matter her age."

Nadya reaches to pull him into another hug. "I'll do as my sisterly duty demands of me. No more, no less." Just how she interprets that sisterly duty, she leaves unstated. She's rather notorious for speaking in riddles, and even Dale isn't completely immune to it. "I do love you dearly, Dalaigh-boy. I'm glad to know I've got you lookin' out for me." She gives him a wink, and another kiss on the forehead. "Now then, tell me what mischief Colton has been up to…" This…might take awhile.

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